


I’ll Be Your Eyes

by DiamondDustOhSnap



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, HighSpecs, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, SpecsHighSpecs, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Yes you read that right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 17:32:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondDustOhSnap/pseuds/DiamondDustOhSnap
Summary: A strange time warp causes Aranea to be faced with not one Ignis, but two. Can't decide? Have both!It's SpecsHighSpecs. With feelings.





	I’ll Be Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of a conversation with a very amazing group of HighSpecs fans, and I just had to write it. It was supposed to be pure smut—and there’s still plenty of that—but it turned into a bit of an angsty piece as well. It lives in my “The Far and Distant Light” headcanon. Enjoy!

Something strange was happening. Ignis could sense that the world around him didn’t feel quite right the moment he touched the curious crystal shard in a well-hidden room at Steyliff Grove. 

He had gone to look for further clues about the Darkness. Normally he would have taken Talcott, but Aranea had a brief but well-timed reprieve from duty. She insisted on coming along instead, suggesting that it would be sort of like a couple’s trip for the two of them. After all, it’s been nearly 10 years since they have been together in some way or another, and they never really had a vacation together. 

Ignis, of course, reminded Aranea that this was no vacation. Aranea reminded him that they would at least have to sleep in tents, a nice throwback to how they got together in the first place—in a tent in the Vesperpool region. 

Once Prompto was secured as a babysitter for their precocious daughter, Lucie, they were off on Aranea’s motorbike—and Ignis had to admit that it really did feel a little like vacation. Between their duties, their daughter, and their ongoing survival, it was exactly what they needed: A few days alone together, searching for clues, making love in tents, and curled up together while talking about the things they would do as a family once the light came back. 

Everything had been going well—that is, until Aranea saw something glinting in the halo of her flashlight in that hidden room they stumbled upon. 

“What is this?” she asked, and nearly reached for it. 

“Wait!” Ignis shouted. “Don’t touch it.”

Aranea wondered how he even knew she was about to. His senses were oddly sharp in that way. 

Ignis walked over to the piece of ragged blue crystal, seemingly examining it. 

“So strange…” Ignis said. “It’s as if I can… feel it.”  


Aranea looked at the discarded shard, looking so innocuous on the floor, sitting atop bits of rubble. 

“Okay… And what’s it saying?” she asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Sure you’re not just imagining things?” 

“You know I lack that particular sort of imagination, darling.” 

The next thing Ignis knew, his hand shot out to the crystal as if he wasn’t even in control of it, and grabbed the cold, hard shard. The moment he touched it, a shockwave passed through the space, knocking Ignis and Aranea off their feet. 

“Whoa! What the hell was that? I thought you said not to touch it!” Aranea yelled. 

“I… I don’t know what came over me.” 

Ignis dropped the crystal on the floor and backed away, clearly unsettled. 

“You know what, I think we had enough of this kind of excitement for one night,” Aranea said, taking Ignis’ hand and guiding him toward the chamber’s exit. “We can come back tomorrow and examine that thing properly—and carefully.”  


Ignis ran his hand through his hair and nodded, but an uneasy feeling remained. 

They made their way back outside and headed toward their campsite, battling a few daemons along the way, though they presented no trouble to the formidable couple after 10 years of learning to fight together. As they reached the camp, however, Aranea stopped dead in her tracks. 

“Wait,” she said. 

“What is it?” 

“Someone’s at the camp. The fire is going.”

“What? But who could it possibly be?” 

“No idea. Let’s get better a look, but quietly.”

“You lead.” 

Aranea snuck forward, with Ignis staying a fair distance behind, knowing he was not quite as useful when it came to spy work. Aranea climbed up the side of the camp without making a sound, until she could peer over the ledge at the figure stoking the fire. 

It was a long and lean man, and something was oddly familiar about him. He stood and walked to the table on the other side of the camp. Aranea almost gasped as she recognized the familiar gait, the effortless way the man picked up a knife. She looked back down and could make out Ignis at the foot of the camp, then looked back up and—by the light of the Six—watched Ignis begin chopping at the campground table. 

Except it wasn’t quite her Ignis from what she could see. For starters, he still sported his old hairstyle, and he was a bit leaner. 

Aranea climbed up onto the campground and slowly, quietly, approached the mystery Ignis from behind. Could he be an apparition? A cruel trick of Ardyn’s? 

As she got closer, she caught a glimpse of his profile. He was a lot younger—perhaps the age when they first met—and he wasn’t blind. All Aranea could do was stare at him, dumbfounded. 

The younger Ignis seemed to sense this as his chopping slowed down ever so slightly, and he gripped the knife handle harder. Then, in a quick move, he turned around and was ready to attack—but was met with a clash of Aranea’s forearm armor against his knife.  


As soon as younger Ignis saw Aranea’s face, he froze, knife still raised and pivoted against her armor. 

“Aranea Highwind!” he gasped, and quickly lowered his weapon. “I apologize, I did not know it was you.” 

Aranea stared at him, mouth open, unable to formulate her words. 

“Is everything all right?” younger Ignis asked. 

“Uh…” 

“Aranea!” older Ignis called out. He had come up to the camp, triggered by the sound of metal hitting metal. 

“I’m okay,” she yelled back, almost out of habit from their battles. 

Younger Ignis looked over at the older man and back at Aranea, then shook his head, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Aranea, what is going on?” he asked. “Who is this man?”

“Excuse me?” older Ignis said. 

“What the fu…” Aranea looked back from one Ignis to the other, not knowing what to make of this. “You’re not Ardyn, are you?” she asked the younger one. 

“What?! Of course not! What are you even talking about?” 

“Aranea, who are you talking to?” older Ignis asked again, coming closer. 

“Wow…” Aranea said. “This is super weird.” 

“For the love of the Six, what are you talking about?” older Ignis asked. 

Younger Ignis looked at the older one, recognition setting in, but not quite comprehending. He looked at Aranea again, a bit closer this time, and realized that, although she was as beautiful as ever, she was a bit older than he last remembered—when she had dropped them off at Lestallum after searching for the mythril. 

“Ignis…” Aranea began, “the man in our camp is… you.”

“What?”

“It’s you. Or, you 10 years ago maybe.” 

“Excuse me?” younger Ignis interjected. “10 years ago? What year is it?” 

“Am I hearing this correctly,” older Ignis said. “There is another me standing in front of us, talking to us right now?” 

“Yes.” Aranea said. “Except he’s got his eyesight and he’s still wearing his hair in that cockatrice-inspired style.” 

“Cockatrice?” younger Ignis said. “I happen to like this style.”

“I mean, it grows on you,” Aranea shrugged. 

“The crystal…” older Ignis breathed out. “I touched the crystal. I felt something was different—strange. Perhaps it is some bizarre time warp.”

“A crystal? Time warp?” younger Ignis mused. “And why would you touch something you didn’t know the effects of?”

“I was merely responding to an inexplicable pull from the crystal, I’ll have you know. I would never simply touch a strange artifact for the sake of it.” 

“Of course not, apologies.”

Aranea rolled her eyes. As if one Ignis and his passive aggression wasn’t enough…

“So somehow, this bit of crystal transported the younger version of you here?” she asked. 

“Or we’re in the past,” older Ignis suggested. 

“Or in neither of our timelines at all,” younger Ignis added. “It might only be temporary.”

“What makes you say that?” Aranea asked. 

“Time is constantly trying to right itself,” older Ignis said. 

“Yes. If a wrinkle like this were indeed possible, it would be hard pressed to last. It’s not in time’s nature to transgress linearity. Alternate timelines may run side by side, but if we are from a single timeline—“

“—which, we can argue, we may very well be—“

“—then time will want to right itself. Sooner or later.”

“So what the two of you are suggesting is that time itself will sort everything out, and we should just wait this out?” Aranea asked. 

“Precisely,” the Ignises replied in unison. 

“Then you two better get to cooking, cause I’m starving,”

Younger Ignis nodded and went back to his chopping board as the older one took a few steps back. Aranea looked at him, studying his expression. She knew him well enough by now to decipher that, despite his seemingly neutral face, he seemed nervous. 

“I must say, this is quite an incredible occurrence,” younger Ignis said. 

“It truly is,” older Ignis agreed. 

“Did you want to help cook? I prefer to cook alone usually—“

“—yes, I know—”

“But cooking with you would be just about the same thing.” 

“I, uh…” 

Older Ignis shifted from one leg to the other—definitely not a common movement from him. The only time Aranea recalled seeing him this nervous was the night she went into labor. 

“I work best with my own cooking station, so that I may know where everything is,” older Ignis said. 

Younger Ignis turned around at this, suspecting something was amiss. He was particular about his cooking space yes, but he certainly wouldn’t be quite so concerned with, well, himself. He took a couple of steps forward and studied the older man. He had noticed the scars, even in the dim light, but he had assumed they were nothing more than superficial battle marks (which, he thought, looked pretty cool). He had a lot of questions of course—about the scars, about Aranea being his hunting partner, about the fact that the night seemed darker than normal—but he wanted to ease into things. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to know. Except, perhaps, about the how he did his hairstyle. It was different, but a good look for him. 

Older Ignis shifted even more uncomfortably, and Aranea couldn’t take it anymore. 

“He’s blind!” she said. “I mean, you’re… blind.” 

“What?” younger Ignis said. 

Older Ignis breathed out and removed his visor, exposing the milky green eyes. Younger Ignis came face to face with him, studying the eyes as if there was some other answer to be found there. 

“How?” he asked. 

“It’s… better if you don’t know,” older Ignis said. 

Younger Ignis looked at Aranea for confirmation and she nodded. Whatever it was, younger Ignis understood that it was better this way, better that he wasn’t prepared, so he didn’t fight for an answer. He trusted his older counterpart to know what was best. 

“I would still very much like to cook with you,” younger Ignis said. “I’ll be your eyes.”  


Older Ignis nodded in agreement and walked over to the chopping board. Aranea watched the two go about their business, still trying to make sense of what she was witnessing. It was strange to see him so young and without the scars. He was beautiful and perfect, though no more so than her current Ignis. Still, she couldn’t help but find herself immensely attracted to the younger one too. At nearly 40, their age difference was significant—and awfully exciting. 

“Interesting,” older Ignis said. 

“What is it?” the younger one asked. 

“I feel as if I am beginning to ‘see’ the table…”

“Oh?”

“Hmm… the table is white, and there’s a dark mark on it at the top corner to the left.” 

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Do me a favor. Arrange the peppers into a shape.” 

Younger Ignis moved the peppers around until he made not one, but two shapes. 

“Clever,” older Ignis said. “It’s a square and a star. But you made two, because I only asked for one, hence validating that—”

“—you are indeed ‘seeing’ the table and not just making an accurate guess. It would appear that you are acquiring my memories—which would make perfect sense, since you are me.”

“Yes. How peculiar.” 

“Come on you two,” Aranea called over, “it’s dinner, not a science project! Get a move on.” 

Younger Ignis scoffed at her bluntness. 

“You’ll get used to it,” older Ignis said, smiling a little. He was just realizing that the younger man wouldn’t know about Aranea yet, about the glorious woman that she is, the beautiful body that he worships at… A thought began to formulate. 

Younger Ignis plated three dishes, handing one to older Ignis and passing another to Aranea. They sat around the fire, Aranea between the two, and ate. 

“I suppose you must have many other questions, aside from my blindness,” older Ignis said. 

“I do.”

“I shall do my best to answer whatever I see if fit. But I trust you won’t push for information where it’s best that you don’t know.”

“Of course.” 

“By the Six,” Aranea said, “can you two stop this? You’re talking to each other like you’re at a business meeting. Relax! It’s just us.” 

“There’s my first question then,” younger Ignis said. “Aranea. Last we saw you, we were acquiring the mythril. Your assistance was, of course, most valuable. But I did not anticipate you would be working alongside us in the future.” 

“Working alongside you? Oh boy…” Aranea shook her head, not knowing how to start explaining their near decade of building a life together. 

“Aranea and I are… together,” older Ignis said. 

“Together, as in—“

“As in partners in crime, dancers of the dirty tango, practitioners of the horizontal monkey, riders of the reverse cowgirl, connoisseurs of the dirty Sanchez—”

“Not that last one,” older Ignis said. 

“Interesting…” younger Ignis mused, subtly eyeing Aranea up and down with increased interest. 

“Come on Iggy, you knew you wanted this all the way back during that mythril mission,” Aranea teased.  


Younger Ignis turned several shades darker, as if he had been caught, and Aranea laughed. 

“So, you and I, we become a couple?” he asked. 

“Yeah. After you lose your sight though.” 

“And how long have we been together?”

“Close to 10 years now, in some shape or form. We had a rocky start, what with the world gone to shit—” 

“It’s better that you don’t know too much about that part,” older Ignis interjected. “Trust me.”

Younger Ignis nodded at the severity of the statement. He could tell the mood seemed different in their world; his older self had clearly seen things, and even Aranea seemed more battle-hardened, if that were possible. 

“10 years though. That is quite the history,” younger Ignis said. He felt almost overwhelmed at the prospect, having never had a long relationship thus far—unless Noctis counted. 

“Don’t worry,” older Ignis reassured him. “10 years feels like the blink of an eye now. Aranea has truly been the light in my life.” 

“Awww, have I really?” Aranea teased. 

“There is not a better woman in the world.”

Younger Ignis watched the two as they squeeze their hands together, and he felt just a little bit lonely. Even though it was him, there was still something so disconnected with his older counterpart—something unrecognizable. And to think that he would be spending so many years with Aranea… 

It scared him. She scared him. Yes, she was beautiful, there was no argument there. Even 10 years on, she was still trim and attractive, with the subtle crow’s feet only adding a certain charm to her features. Her hair was longer now too, though still in a ponytail, but it cascaded beautifully over her shoulder till she tossed it back behind her. 

But what really scared him was her intensity. He had no doubt that she would be a handful, powerful and used to getting her way. How in the world would he learn to handle her for 10 years? Another thought came to younger Ignis. 

“Are we married?” he asked. He’d always secretly hoped that was in the cards for him, though he never voiced it. 

“Yes,” older Ignis answered. “It was an intimate ceremony. It was… nearly perfect.” He wasn’t about to mention the one person sadly missing from the occasion: Noctis. 

Younger Ignis seemed to prepare himself in some way before asking his next question: “Any children?”  


The older two immediately beamed at the thought of their daughter. 

“A girl,” Aranea said. “Lucie. She takes after you an irritating amount.” 

Younger Ignis smiled to himself. “Do you have a picture of her? I’d very much like to see her.”

Aranea began to reach into a pocket, but older Ignis shot his hand out all of a sudden. 

“Wait. If I’m absorbing his memories, then if he sees her picture, I’ll have seen it too.”

“What?” Aranea said. 

“If he sees her, I will see her.”

Aranea thought about this a moment. “But… wouldn’t you want to?”

It was hardly that simple. Ignis had spent Lucie’s entire life building up a picture of her in his mind. He had touched her face extensively, imagining the beautiful way the features would come together. He had Aranea tell him about the shade of her eyes and the placement of the tiniest of freckles. He felt he had a very accurate picture of her in his mind—and he wasn’t about to be told if it was wrong. 

“I’m not sure that I want to,” older Ignis explained. “I have this version of her in my head. I’m not prepared to let that be changed.”

“I understand.” younger Ignis said. 

Aranea nodded. The thought of Ignis never having seen their daughter saddened her at times, but she was never one to dwell. And, somehow, she could understand why he wouldn’t want to see her now. 

Then another thought hit Aranea. 

“Ignis, if you’re getting his memories from this moment, then does that mean… you can see me?”

“Yes.”

“Crap.”

“What?” older Ignis couldn’t imagine what would possibly be bad about that. 

“I’ve gotten older…” 

Oh. 

“I never really had to worry about what you think about that before,” she continued. “I was kind of hoping you’ll just picture me as a hot 30-year-old forever.” 

“Aranea…” Older Ignis got up and knelt in front of her, taking her hand and brushing her cheek with his other. As the younger Ignis witnessed this, the older one could see the scene unfolding in front of him—and he could feel the warmth that his younger self felt at sight of the two of them together. 

“My love, you’re the most beautiful woman I ever did or didn’t lay eyes on, no matter how you look. And I enjoy feeling the subtle ways you’ve changed over the years.”

“I’d say you’re full of shit, but you sound too damn genuine.”

“Of course I am. You getting older will never be an issue for me. The only regret I’ll ever have, and you know this, is that I didn’t get to see you naked at least once.” 

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” younger Ignis said. 

“Oh right, sorry,” Aranea said. “Didn’t mean to get all mushy with an audience—”

“No, I mean I’m right here. With eyes. And memories that pass directly onto him.” 

The thought was formulated in older Ignis’ mind without any further explanation needed, though Aranea still sported a look of confusion. 

“Yes, you’re right,” older Ignis said. “You could be my eyes for this.” 

“Wait, for what?!” Aranea exclaimed. 

“That is, of course, if you don’t feel the same way you did with Lucie’s picture,” younger Ignis offered. 

“This feels different,” older Ignis replied. “It would be wonderful, to see her just once…”

“Hold up!” Aranea said, standing up and gesticulating wildly. “You want him to look at me naked so you could see what my body looks like?” 

“Precisely,” both Ignises replied. 

“I have to think about this. Give me a moment.” 

Aranea walked away from the fire and paced the periphery of the camp. She never imagined another man would ever see her naked again, but this wasn’t another man—it was hers. Just much younger. And probably far more innocent. 

Not to mention there were her own little self-consciousnesses to deal with. She had always been very confident in her body, but the past 10 years have left a few marks, and it wasn’t limited to daemon brawls. Oh, no. There was also childbirth, a fate far crueler than any war wound. She had a few stretch marks, the skin on her stomach wasn’t as taut as before, and her breasts lost a bit of their fight against gravity after breastfeeding (though she still thought they looked pretty great overall). 

And then, of course, there was that one major question: Was this wrong? She felt incredibly attracted to the younger Ignis, unsurprisingly. Not more so than the older one, of course—it was just different. But if they’re exactly the same person, than what would be the crime? 

She tried reversing the situation in her head. If Ignis was faced with her and a younger Aranea, would he not want them both? She would, quite frankly, be offended if he wasn’t begging for a three-way. 

Aranea walked back to the two Ignises with purpose. 

“Okay, I’m game,” she said, “but I have a few rules.”

“Yes?” they replied at the same time. Gods, they were even sitting the same way.  


“I’m not just going to get naked so you could stare at me for five seconds, and then that’s it. Oh no. We’re going to make the most of this.”

“How so?” younger Ignis asked, his voice quivering ever so slightly. 

“We’re going to have sex.”

Older Ignis looked like he was about to jump in with a retort, but Aranea silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re the same person,” she continued. “This is a crazy time warp. We are not passing on this opportunity. Just imagine, Ignis. It’s like you get to have sex with me for the first time all over again.”  


He thought about this a moment and shut his mouth in agreement, with a slight nod. 

“What if I don’t agree?” younger Ignis asked. “What if I would prefer to arrive to this… thing between us naturally, when the time comes?”

“You could. But is that what you really want?” Aranea challenged him with a steely gaze. 

Honestly, younger Ignis wondered, how does he ever manage 10 years with her in one piece when she could take a man down with a single glare? 

“Well, if I’m perfectly honest, it is a bit tempting…” younger Ignis replied. 

“He wants it,” older Ignis chimed in. “He’s just a little, uh, nervous to admit it.”

Aranea licked her lips as she look at the two gorgeous men in front of her, both the loves of her life, one familiar and the other just waiting to be taught a thing or two. 

“Well, this will be fun.”

—

Ever the pragmatist, younger Ignis had brought out some sleeping bags from the tent and set them by the fire, where they would have better light. The three of them sat in a circle on the sleeping bags, not knowing where to start, and suddenly Aranea was the one feeling nervous. 

“It’s perfectly fine, darling,” older Ignis said. “You look absolutely beautiful even just sitting there. I’d love to see more…”

His voice was so reassuring that Aranea softened a little. Her armor was already off, so she took a breath and pulled her black tank top over her head, leaving only her bra. Younger Ignis gaped at her, and she tilted her head flirtatiously, then reached behind and unclasped her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders. Younger Ignis’ jaw was practically on the floor. 

Older Ignis took a sharp intake of breath too. He wasn’t only see her topless for the first time, but he was also absorbing the feelings of the younger one, that awe and excitement at seeing a beautiful woman suddenly exposed—and no one he had ever seen before could hold a candle to Aranea Highwind. 

“Everyone okay?” Aranea asked. “You guys seem a little… stunned.” 

“Apologies,” younger Ignis recovered. “It’s just that…”

“You wanna touch?” 

“I, uh—”

“Yes, he does,” older Ignis said, almost wistfully. 

“How about we ease you into it?” Aranea suggested. “Let’s start with a kiss.”

She leaned in and put her hand softly on the back of younger Ignis’ head, pulling him closer. He resisted a little, but then leaned in as well, his lips meeting hers softly. 

The first thing Aranea noticed was the little scar that was missing. His lips were so soft and unmarred, and far more hesitant than she was used to. Her heart warmed at the thought of just how innocent Ignis had once been. 

She intensified the kiss, pressing her tongue into his mouth. He still tasted the same, and she found herself getting lost in the kiss, pressing into him more. Younger Ignis reciprocated, a soft groan vibrating in his throat. 

They pulled apart and both immediately looked at older Ignis, as if for approval. He wore a euphoric smile, as if he’d been a part of this kiss just as much as them. And really, he was. 

Feeling more confident now, younger Ignis rested a hand on Aranea’s waist, and slowly ran it up to her breasts. He felt the shape of her, examining with not only his hands but his eyes too. He tried to noticed any small detail he could, from the shape of her nipples to a little freckle that lay on her right breast. 

“I didn’t think you could be more beautiful,” older Ignis said, reaching out and finding Aranea’s cheek, then pulling her in for a quick kiss. 

“It ain’t what it used to be 10 years ago, but it’ll do I guess,” she quipped. 

“I can’t imagine how it could possibly be better,” younger Ignis replied, moving his other hand on her as well. 

“Before we go any further though,” Aranea said, “I demand some shirts off. And that’s right, I said shirts—plural.”

The situation was feeling less and less awkward, and the two Ignises began to unbutton their shirts almost identically, without hesitation. They pulled them off and faced Aranea, as if awaiting instructions. 

“Now kiss.” 

“Pardon??” they responded at the same time. 

“You heard me. Come on, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to make out with yourself? Humor me.”

“Honestly, how have you done 10 years with her?” younger Ignis said. 

“With great patience.” 

“I’m waiting!” Aranea said. 

The two Ignises faced one another and, in a moment of throwing all questioning to the wind, came together in a kiss. Aranea’s heart sped up as she watched the two intensify, clearly enjoying themselves. 

“Wow. Well, this is hot,” she said. 

The two men stopped and looked at her at the same time. 

“Your turn,” they said in unison, and leaned in toward her to initiate a three-way kiss. 

Aranea had generally been open to the idea of a threesome in her life, but this was certainly not how she had imagined it. And besides, she had such a good thing going with Ignis that she wasn’t tempted to tamper with it. This, however, was kind of perfect. 

She ran a hand along the torso of each Ignis, feeling the subtle differences—one leaner, the other more built out, one almost baby soft, the other a little rougher with the years. Both made her swoon. 

Aranea’s hands made their way down their chests, landing near their belt buckles, and she ran her palms over them, feeling just how excited they were. Older Ignis lay his hand over hers, as if to stop her. 

“Aranea,” he said, “I would really love to see more of you.” 

“Sure thing,” she replied, remembering that this was really for him first and foremost. 

She stood up and kicked off her boots, then undid her pants and teasingly pushed them down. She watched the two men, the younger one blushing hard and the older one watching as if he could really see her. She delighted in the thought that, for once, he was in a manner of speaking, and apparently very much enjoying it. 

Aranea was now down to her underwear. She turned around, giving a perfect view of her ass as she leaned over and pulled her underwear down too. She flipped it over her shoulder, the garment landing on younger Ignis’ lap. She peered over her shoulder to watch him pick it up and fold it nicely, as the older Ignis chuckled. 

She turned around and walked over to older Ignis, fully naked now. 

“Watch and learn, Iggy,” she said to the younger one as she spread her legs above the face of a seated older Ignis. 

“Come closer,” older Ignis instructed, gesturing to the younger one. “I want to see her clearly.” 

Younger Ignis shifted over, absorbing the curve of Aranea’s hips, the trail of trimmed hair, the lips that glistened in the firelight. Older Ignis parted them with his fingers, which he then inserted inside her. 

“Yes…” he whispered, as if he had just discovered something there, confirmed some vision he always had of this action. 

He removed his fingers and, as if sensing younger Ignis’ unspoken desire, he held his fingers to the younger man’s lips. Younger Ignis put his fingers in his mouth, tasting Aranea for the first time. He worked his tongue over the fingers that were rougher than his own, getting every bit of her taste. 

Older Ignis went in with his tongue next, licking Aranea just how he knew she liked. He went in deep and slow, winding her up so that her hips started moving to a rhythm of their own accord, and he followed her lead. After a moment, he stopped and looked at younger Ignis, who, without missing a beat, grabbed older Ignis and kissed him fiercely, hungry for more of Aranea’s taste, but also for a bit of the strange satisfaction of kissing himself. 

Aranea sat back down as she watched this scene unfold, thoroughly enjoying it. As the men parted from the kiss and turned their attention back onto her again, she spread her legs, facing younger Ignis and beckoning him over with a teasing finger. He leaned over her and kissed her, then made a trail of kisses down to her breasts. 

Older Ignis shifted closer so that he could kiss Aranea as the action unfolded in his mind. He could see the beautiful curves of her breasts, see her creamy white skin and every tiny detail that passed in front of the younger Ignis’ eyes. At one point, younger Ignis closed his eyes a moment, and the older one politely asked that he keep it open. It seemed their visual connection was that immediate and accurate. 

As younger Ignis made his way lower, he began to feel nervous, his heart practically pounding out of his chest. What if he didn’t do it right? He knew he wouldn’t be able to please her the way his future self could, after a decade of practice, but utter failure would be so disappointing—both to Aranea, and to both of his selves. 

“Just relax,” older Ignis said, feeling his trepidation. “She’s very sensitive. It’s like she does half the work for you.”

“And I like to give instructions,” Aranea added. “With my hips.” 

She bucked her hips up, hitting younger Ignis in the jaw with her pelvis. He raised an eyebrow at her, and then placed his tongue on her velvety skin, running it up and down a few times. He found her opening and parted her with his tongue to get a taste again. He kept his eyes focused, looking at the details closely. Older Ignis smiled in appreciation. 

As he continued to massage her with his tongue, younger Ignis slipped two fingers inside Aranea, who moaned in response. Her hips moved faster against his lips, and he responded in turn, matching her rhythm. He was hard and practically bursting out of his pants now, to the point of discomfort. As if reading his mind (because he pretty much was), Older Ignis reached over and unbuckled his belt. He helped pull down his pants, the younger man kicking off his shoes as he maintained some sort of balance over Aranea. Older Ignis then reached for his underwear, and paused a moment, contemplating. He then ran a hand over the erection. It was strange, touching himself like this. It was, in a way, no different than pleasuring himself at any other time, except his hand felt foreign. 

Aranea propped herself up on her elbows as she noticed this and bit her lip. 

“Do it,” she said, voice gravelly. 

Older Ignis didn’t have to ask to feel the sense of consent from his younger counterpart. He reached into the underwear and freed himself, stroking exactly how he knew he liked it. Younger Ignis moaned into Aranea as he continued to massage her most sensitive part with his tongue. Aranea moaned too, as she watched Ignis give himself the strangest hand job ever. 

She sat up and placed a hand on younger Ignis’ cheek, raising his face to hers. She kissed him hard, hand trailing down to his erection, and met older Ignis’ hand there as she wrapped her own hand around younger Ignis. Older Ignis placed his hand on top of hers, moving with her; it was the permission she was seeking. Yes, she could do what she wanted with this Ignis. 

Aranea leaned down, and the younger man watched her as she placed her lips on him too, teasing the head with her tongue. She wanted Ignis to look at her, wanted her own Ignis to know what it looked like when she did this him. She worked him expertly, already well-versed in his preferences and what set him off, and how he liked to be teased with a tongue snaking up his length, and dancing at the tip for a moment before she would take him in fully and firmly again. 

Her hand reached out to older Ignis’ belt next, struggling to undo it. He stood to quickly remove his clothes and sat back down, fully naked, so that Aranea could run her hands over him too. 

Younger Ignis looked at the older man sitting there, assessing the body. He was still in very good shape, perhaps even better and more built out. But what surprised him more so were the scars. Battle scars and injuries from a hundred different situations peppered his body, and younger Ignis felt a certain sadness for his fate; he always prided himself on maintaining a pristine appearance after all. 

Older Ignis sensed this. Admittedly, it was surprising to essentially see his body for the first time through the younger man’s eyes. In his own mind, he had remained unscarred, though he could feel the ridges and bumps. But as long as he couldn’t see them, they didn’t really exist. 

That fantasy had vanished now—but what he found instead were not imperfections, but testaments. The one on his left shoulder represented a time he was willing to put himself in the line of fire for Noctis. The one on his chest was from saving his daughter from a hoard of daemons. And the deep scratch on his right bicep was from Aranea as she screamed in agony while giving birth, running a nail a bit too deeply into his skin. 

It was a map of his achievements, and he felt a certain sense of pride that only made him more turned on. 

He moved closer so that Aranea could easier move her lips between the two of them. Younger Ignis moved closer too, and Aranea welcomed the challenge, taking in both men at the same time, as much as she could. Older Ignis gasped as he felt the strange sensation of getting this pleasure simultaneously; it was almost overwhelming. 

Younger Ignis, on the other hand, couldn’t take much more of this, so he backed away a little to catch his breath. Older Ignis pulled Aranea up to face him and kissed her passionately. As the younger man watched them, Older Ignis took in the view of the two embracing and felt all the love in the world for Aranea that he never felt words adequately expressed. 

As they continued to kiss, Younger Ignis looked on in awe. If he were honest with himself about such things, which he rarely was, he would admit that he felt lonely at times. The guys were his family, yes, but it wasn’t the same. When he was younger, he used to often sleep in Noctis’ room at the prince’s insistence, but the habit faded as they got older. Sharing a tent and hotel rooms with the guys had been a bit of reprieve from the deafening nighttime silence of his room in Insomnia. But even as he lay there, soft snoring and warm bodies on either side of him, his arms felt empty. 

To see his older self now, with arms full of Aranea, filled him with the strangest warmth and yearning. He wanted to be that man for her already. He wanted to know the ins and outs of this woman that would become his partner and the mother of his child, to know her every secret and the things that made her tick.  


This time, it was Aranea that sensed his yearning. She moved away just a little from older Ignis and reached a hand out to the younger man, pulling him toward her. She looked at his face closer, at all the details she never had the chance to memorize before he was left scarred. He studied her too, noticing the details, making a conscious effort to commit everything to memory. It wasn’t only for older Ignis to have these memories, but for himself too—knowing that he would only have his sight for so much longer. 

He loved the way her nose curved so perfectly, how plump her lips were from kissing, and how her eyes closed halfway, framed by dark eyelashes. He loved the little freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose. He loved the slight smirk at the corner of her mouth. He’d only known her a short time, but he was already falling completely in love with her. 

Aranea pulled younger Ignis in for a gentle kiss. She was still turned on, but something about him also made her sad. Perhaps she had a weak spot for the past after all, even though she made a point never to dwell. Motherhood had definitely softened this part of her. 

Despite the briefly solemn mood, younger Ignis was getting overcome again by her kiss. He wanted her so much, but he didn’t know if it would be acceptable. As if in response, older Ignis put a reassuring hand on his lower back. 

“You may do so, as far as I’m concerned,” he said, reading his thoughts. 

“Yes,” Aranea agreed. 

Younger Ignis nodded, and Aranea pushed him down to the ground. She straddled him, teasing him with contact as she hovered her hips just above his. She reached down and stroked him, then guided him to her. She pushed down, and younger Ignis resisted the temptation to close his eyes. He let out a low and long sigh of relief at being inside her warmth and ran his hands up her thighs, taking a hold of her waist. 

Aranea looked at older Ignis to make sure he was still okay with this, and the hungry kiss he met her with was confirmation enough. He then stood up and Aranea took him in her mouth again, increasing her rhythm as she rode the younger one at the same time. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to do this, but younger Ignis moved a hand off Aranea and grabbed older Ignis’ hand, who squeezed it in response. Aranea rode him harder, forgetting to pay attention to one thing: younger Ignis wasn’t quite as good at holding out as the older one, having not been intimate with anyone in some time. She felt his grip tighten on her waist, his hips bucking wildly for a moment. She released older Ignis from her mouth as she realized what was happening, focusing her eyes on the younger one instead as he came. She knew that her Ignis enjoyed her attention during that moment, even if he couldn’t see her. He better have the chance this one time. 

As younger Ignis finished and collapsed, Aranea leaned down and kissed him, smiling sweetly. 

“I love when you do that,” she said. 

“Sorry if it was a bit soon,” the younger man replied. 

“Good thing we have backup,” she smiled. 

Aranea raised herself off him, turning her attention to older Ignis. He grabbed her, pushing her on the ground now and positioning himself between her legs. It was his turn to tease her now, feigning entry and then pulling away, a small vengeance for earlier. Aranea let out a low laugh, then placed her hands on older Ignis’ ass and pulled him into her easily, still wet and ready. 

Intertwining his fingers with Aranea’s hand, younger Ignis watched as the two made love, easily falling into a pace that suited them both; it seemed so easy for them. 

Older Ignis relished the sight of being with Aranea like this. The way she arched her back and curled her fingers, the hypnotic motions her breasts made—he had always felt these things happening. But seeing them was a whole other thing. 

And her face… The expression she made as he tilted just so, the drop of her jaw as he brought her pleasure. 

And the way she looked at him. 

Praise the astrals, it was enough to make anyone come undone. And yet there she was, even after so many years, still looking at him this way. He seared the vision into his mind, vowing that, whatever may fade over time, this is the one thing he would always take with him. 

Aranea arched her back as she came and older Ignis released himself too. The three of them collapse, Aranea in between the two, and quietly waited for their breathing to slow down. As the night went on, they found a second and third wind, making the most of this rare opportunity. 

When the hour was late, they moved the now damp sleeping bags and their clothes into the tent. Aranea lit a lamp and made herself comfortable between the two men. 

“So when do you think this whole wrinkle in time thing is going to right itself?” she asked. 

“One can never know. We may all be back to our timelines by morning. Or perhaps not,” older Ignis said. 

“Well, I must say,” younger Ignis mused, “this has certainly been a one-of-a-kind experience. Aranea, I may very well have fallen in love with you already.” 

“Just you wait,” she laughed. “I’ll put you through hell before long. But we’ll have a good life.” 

“I look forward to it. Now how about we get some sleep? I, for one, have but an inch of energy left,” younger Ignis said. 

Aranea and younger Ignis settled in, but older Ignis stayed sitting up, thinking. Aranea eyed him, noticing something was on his mind. 

“Ignis?”

“Yes…” older Ignis replied. “I’ve been thinking. And I think that…” he took a deep breath. “I would like him to look at Lucie’s picture.” 

Aranea sat up. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I am. I need to see her, just one time.” 

“Okay then.”  


Aranea found her belt pack, unzipping a compartment and pulling out the picture she carried with her everywhere. Prompto had taken it, and it featured a gently smiling Lucie between the faces of her beaming parents. She looked at younger Ignis. 

“Ready?” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

She handed over the photograph, and, simultaneously, the two Ignises took in a long and slow breath, their mouths dropping open. 

Younger Ignis stared at the picture, moving it to the lamplight to get a better view. Lucie was very much a blend of her parents, with light ashy hair and green eyes. Her lips were very much Ignis’, and she shared his cheekbones as well, but had the softness of her mother’s jawline. She was smiling, but it wasn’t the toothy smile of most children her age. Instead, her lips remained shut, but her cheeks glowed with a rosy happiness. She wore a black cloth embroidered in sylleblossoms that covered her right eye. 

“Daemons,” Aranea said. “Goblins, actually. They snatched her right out of her room while she slept. Luckily, we got to her just in time. Well, almost…” 

The image had become very clear in older Ignis’ mind. He could see his daughter now, her expression that truly was a copy of his own, as people often said. Her right eye was indeed covered, and he ached at the memory of the terror of that night, when he thought he might have lost her. One eye was a small price to pay for her overall safety, but he still felt guilty he couldn’t save every part of her. Lucie, however, wore her scars like a badge of honor that only connected her more so with her father, who she adored beyond measure. 

Besides, she still had one good eye, and that’s all she needed to be the occasional terror that surely came from her mother’s side, climbing and jumping from high places that she had no business being in. She had the dragoon blood, after all. 

What struck older Ignis the most, though, was how accurate his vision of Lucie had been. He was looking at the very image of her that he had made up in his mind—but even better. Aranea had given him countless details again and again, but nothing could prepare him for the utter beauty he now saw. He couldn’t possibly love her more, yet he found just a little more admiration—not for her physical beauty, though that she certainly had, but for the beauty in the expression she wore. He felt indescribable pride at seeing just how much of him lived on in his daughter, his only child. 

He was glad that his younger counterpart had looked at the photo. He smiled in Aranea’s direction, and a few tears escaped that he hadn’t even noticed were collecting. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

They went to bed in silence after that. 

—

Ignis opened his eyes in the morning, rubbing the sleep out and stretching. He looked to his left and right, but there were only empty sleeping bags nearby. He slowly sat up, remembering the night before, and wondered if Aranea and his older counterpart were already outside making breakfast—which he could definitely use. 

He pushed himself up to open the front flap of the tent but froze as he heard the voices outside. They were familiar, and all male. 

He was back in his timeline. Or perhaps it had all been a dream. 

And yet, something told Ignis that it all felt too real, too detailed. He swore he could still taste Aranea on his lips. 

He exited the tent and surveyed the guys. Gladio was packing up supplies, Prompto was feeding his chocobo, and Noctis was attempting to cook at the stovetop. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Ignis asked, walking over to Noctis. “I could have made breakfast.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Noctis said. “Besides, that poison seemed really bad last night.”

“Poison?”

“Yeah. You don’t remember? We needed to use several antidotes on you. Totally knocked you out.”

“I see…” Ignis mulled this over a moment. “Do you suppose that such a high dosage could give you very vivid dreams?” 

“I don’t know. You’re the smart one. Why? What’d you dream?”

“Uh, nothing… It just seemed very real.” 

“I guess it could have been the poison,” Noctis shrugged, serving up breakfast in four small bowls. 

Ignis took a bowl and fork but made no move to eat.

“Oh, and there was this one weird thing last night. It was while you were out,” Noctis said. “It was like a shockwave. We thought something exploded, but we couldn’t see anything. Anyway, enjoy my efforts. I can’t promise it’ll taste very good. And don’t take your time. We got a boat to catch to Altissia.” 

Ignis looked out across the sea and wondered. 

He wondered when they would encounter Aranea again. He wondered what awaited him in Altissia. And he wondered if these memories that he now had would one day fill in the blanks.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too weird? I didn't know how far to go with Ignis x Ignis XD 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless. Let's go back to some multi-chapter HighSpecs fics now!


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